


The Perfect Gift

by heyitsamorette (AmoretteHD)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Christmas Party, Christmas Tree, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3139829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/pseuds/heyitsamorette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wants something that Derek just can’t give him, but that doesn’t stop Stiles from loving him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raktajinos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/gifts).



It was really damn hard to find the will to get out of bed in the morning when Derek was lying next to him. It was pretty much impossible. Stiles couldn’t just throw the sheets off and get up. Derek’s naked body was under those sheets. Derek’s naked, warm, sexy body. Stiles sometimes still had a hard time believing it. If someone had asked him a year ago if Derek Hale was the type of guy to stay the night, Stiles would have laughed in their face. Derek? The Derek with the fangs and the glare and the moody temperament? That jerk, stay the night? It was _not_ something Stiles would have pegged him for, no way. But as it turned out, there were a lot of things about Derek that Stiles hadn’t known a year ago; because a year ago, they weren’t fucking.

“I’m glad you stayed over,” Stiles said, trying not to sound sappy. But it came out pretty sappy anyway.

Derek was lying on his back looking up at the ceiling, his hands folded under his head. “I always stay over.”

“That is false.”

Derek turned his head to look at him, giving him that expression that said, I don’t know if I want to laugh or if I want to roll my eyes at you.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you all month.” The moment the words left his lips, Stiles’ chest constricted. He sounded like a needy boyfriend, and there were two problems with that. First, Stiles didn’t want to be needy. Needy was not sexy. Needy was not him. Second, he was definitely not Derek’s boyfriend.

Not that he didn’t want to be. But he knew how Derek felt about that. How many times had they had that argument? And if Stiles started acting _needy_ , as if he thought he  _were_ Derek’s boyfriend, Derek would never stay the entire night again.

But God, this was Christmas Eve, and couldn’t he just have all of Derek today, of all days?

The silence was stretching and Derek hadn’t responded.

At the risk of sounding even needier, Stiles asked, “Are you coming to my party tonight?”

The morning sun streamed in through the window behind Derek’s head.

Stiles let out a frustrated sigh from deep within his chest. “Fine. It’s fine.” He rolled onto his back, looking away from Derek. “I don’t care. Why would I care? It’s only all our friends coming over to spend Christmas Eve with me since my dad’s away, so that I won’t be all alone tonight. So yeah, there will be enough people without you here. In fact,” Stiles laughed humorlessly, “I won’t even notice you’re gone.”

“I’m coming.”

“You’re -- Oh.” Stiles licked his lips. “You’re coming.”

The bed moved as Derek rolled onto his side. Stiles could feel his eyes on him, but he was feeling stubborn and kept his own eyes averted. That’s when Derek’s hand came out and gripped Stiles by the waist, physically forcing him to turn around and look at him.

A shiver tingled Stiles’ skin. He secretly loved when Derek was aggressive like this.

“I’m coming to your little party,” Derek repeated, holding Stiles’ gaze.

“It’s not a _little party_ ,” Stiles said. “Well, actually, yeah it is. There will only be…” he counted in his head: Scott, Allison, Lydia, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, “...six people there.” Derek began to smile. “Seven counting me,” Stiles said, realizing he was in danger of rambling. “Eight counting… counting you.”

“Yup.”

He didn’t want to come. It was so obvious. And now Stiles was left feeling awkward. He chewed his bottom lip and felt the rambling start to bubble up again. “I still haven’t gotten a tree, though. I’m going to have to get a tree. Maybe I can go before traffic gets bad and pick one up quickly.”

“If you haven’t gotten one by now, why even bother? It’s already Christmas Eve.”

Stiles let his his jaw drop. “But, that’s insane! You can’t have Christmas without a tree.”

Derek let out an obviously fake gasp. “Whatever will everyone say?”

“Everyone will say, wow, this party sucks.” He ignored the way Derek rolled his eyes. “And also, they’ll say, wow, what is Derek Hale doing here? We never see him when he’s not chasing bad guys.”

“You really want me there, don’t you?” Derek knew the answer, because he smiled in a cheeky way, and Stiles would punch him if he weren’t so fucking handsome.

A hot blush crept up Stiles’ neck to his cheeks. He always got so red when he blushed, it was embarrassing enough to make him blush _more_. Good thing Derek claimed to like it so much.

“You sort of suck all the fun out of the room, so I don’t know why I want you there.”

Derek playfully tightened his grip on Stiles’ waist. “I suck the fun out, huh?” He rolled on top of Stiles, pinning him down with strong biceps and muscled chest. Stiles’ breath left him and his cock stirred. He slid his feet up Derek’s legs, relishing in the dusting of hair and the _maleness_ of Derek's body. A low growl began in Derek’s throat. “Stop it,” Derek warned.

“Stop what?” Stiles asked, unable to hold back his grin. “Oh… this?” He traced his feet up the back of Derek’s fit thighs, all the way to where they creased with his asscheeks.

Derek got up on his knees, grabbed Stiles’ feet, and pinned them down. That didn’t stop Stiles, though, who was determined to pester and infuriate him, because infuriated-Derek was hot as hell. Stiles reached up with both hands and ruffled Derek’s hair.

“Stop!” Derek reached for Stiles’ hands instead and pinned them over his head.

When Stiles’ legs came up again -- amid his laughter -- Derek put the weight of knees on top of them to hold his legs down too. Inevitably, Stiles was trapped and lying prone underneath him. They both breathed heavily, their chests rising and falling together.

“Why are you such a pest?” Derek asked.

Stiled grinned.

“Can we just relax in bed for like, three seconds?”

“You want to relax?” Stiles asked. “Or do you want to take my ass?” He wriggled his hips when he saw Derek’s expression darken.

Derek exhaled through his nose, and Stiles knew he was getting turned on. He knew Derek’s tells at this point. After months of getting his ass plowed open and fucked by this man, Stiles knew what riled him up good. And almost nothing riled Derek up more than dirty talk. Filthy dirty talk.

“Because that’s what I want,” Stiles said, feeling the rush of heat himself. He licked his suddenly dry lips. “I want your big cock. I want to feel that big, hard cock in me.”

Derek sucked in a breath, and his eyes looked like liquid as his pupils dilated. Once, Stiles had almost gotten him to change just from pent up sexual aggression. That had been a _damn good fuck._ Stiles wanted that right now.

“I want to be your little omega bitch.”

Derek’s mouth fell open, and his eyes almost seemed to glow red, but then he stiffened and stilled.

Oh no, it had backfired.

Derek pulled away, his eyebrows furrowing. His lips became a thin, angry line. The next moment, he had rolled off of Stiles, leaving him cold without Derek on top of him.

Damn. Why did he have to mention the omega thing?

“Derek.”

“I told you not to bring that up when I’m…” Derek’s made fists in the sheets. “When I’m not in control.”

If Derek’s anger issues had been hot a moment ago, they were really freaking annoying now. This was not the first time they’d had this conversation, and Stiles couldn’t keep swallowing down everything he wanted to say just to keep Derek happy. “You know what?” he snapped. “I’m sick of tip-toeing around your wolfy feelings. I have to watch everything I say just in case it triggers your poor little wolf.” He couldn’t stop himself now; it was like once he got the floodgates open, all his pent up thoughts from months of this -- whatever this crazy thing between them was -- just came pouring out. He gesticulated wildly. “It’s like, don’t say anything about commitment around your wolf, it might get mad. Don’t bring up mating around the wolf, it might get mad. Don’t bring up being in a relationship around the wolf, it might rip right out of you and eat someone. And definitely don’t bring up feelings around the full moon, because your wolf is more _sensitive_ then. Your wolf is sensitive all the damn time, it’s the most sensitive fucking wolf I’ve ever met!”

Great, now they were fighting like a couple. Damn it, they _were_ a couple, whether Derek wanted to admit that or not. This was fucking bullshit.

“Are you finished,” Derek said through clenched teeth.

“Yes!” Stiles took deep breaths, trying to calm down. His pulse was racing. “I’m not a piece of meat,” he insisted. And that would have sounded funny any other time, but right now, laughing was the last thing Stiles wanted to do. Mostly, he wanted to punch his bedroom wall. Or, again, Derek’s stupid face.

“We’ve talked about this before, Stiles.”

Stiles opened his mouth to say fuck off with that shit, but he closed it again and exhaled hard. “I know,” he said. “And I told you I want it.”

“Stiles,” Derek said in a warning tone.

“No, don’t do that.” Stiles shook his head. “Don’t be condescending. I’m not a little kid, okay? I know what I want and what I’m doing.”

Derek licked his lips, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the ceiling.

“I do,” Stiles insisted. “And I would appreciate a little respect from you.”

“When I fuck you like that,” Derek started, then faltered. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing under dark stubble. “I can not trust myself,” he continued, more slowly, “to stay under control.”

“You’re not even listening to me,” Stiles said. “Unbelievable.”

“You think you want to be a werewolf, Stiles, but trust me, you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t _want_ to be a werewolf,” Stiles said. “I don’t wake up every morning thinking, God, I wish I were a half-human-half-beast thing.”

Derek looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“But I want to be with you. That’s what I want.”

Derek’s expression softened, and the way he looked at him made Stiles’ chest ache just a little bit.

“I don’t want you to take anyone else as your omega.”

“I don’t want that either,” Derek said, his voice coming out shakier than usual.

“But it’s gonna happen. It’s inevitable, you know it and I know it. But the difference between you and me is that I’m not scared.”

Derek sighed. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It’s the same reason we can’t tell anyone about us.”

Stiles punched the mattress so suddenly and forcefully, Derek even flinched. “What do you think’s going to happen if we tell our friends about us?”

“I told you, I have enemies, and they will hu--”

“-- hunt me down to get to you, yeah yeah, okay.”

“You don’t think that’s exactly what’s going to happen?” Derek said, turning on his side to face Stiles. “You don’t think someone coming after us to steal my Alpha will use you as bait to get to me? Torture you to get to me?”

“The thing you’re forgetting,” Stiles said, raising his eyebrows to punctuate his point, “is that our friends would never rat on us.”

Derek shook his head, but he didn’t appear angry. He looked at Stiles with something like affection in his eyes. “You’re so naive, Stiles.”

“You don’t trust Scott? Isaac? Lydia, Boyd, Erica, Allison?”

Derek’s breath hitched just slightly, but Stiles noticed.

“Allison! You don’t trust Allison, are you serious?”

“Her father’s a hunter…” Derek shook his head. “That’s not the point! Listen, Stiles, it’s dangerous and we’re not doing it.”

“But you want to?”

Derek paused in saying something, and then asked, “What?”

“You want to tell people. You want to be with me.” Stiles felt himself blush again. “It’s not that you don’t want to.”

“Stiles.” Derek reached up and put his hands into Stiles’ hair, which had grown long enough for him to grab. He looked into Stiles eyes with an unwavering gaze. “I want to be with you, probably more than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

Stiles had to swallow. His heart races madly against his chest.

“My wolf _craves_ you. You are my omega, I can feel it.”

“I want to be,” Stiles murmured, barely able to part his lips with the thrum of lust threatening to overtake his body, making him dizzy and his muscles useless.

“I know you think I’m being a prick, but don’t you see what it’s like for me? I have this crazy need to protect my omega.”

“I want to be,” Stiles breathed. “Your omega. So bad.” He arched his back, bringing himself closer to Derek.

“I want you, too,” Derek said, his eyes heavy-lidded as he stared at Stiles’ lips.

“Then just let me give this to you.” Stiles exposed his neck in a sign of submission he’d seen from other omegas toward their Alphas. It always drove Derek insane with lust, as it did now. He heard the change in Derek’s breathing. Sometimes he thought he could feel Derek just like Derek claimed his wolf could feel Stiles.

Derek growled audibly this time and leaned in, placing a kiss on Stiles’ neck. Stiles whimpered, and Derek’s soft lips continued to kiss, to wet his skin with a light brush of tongue, before sucking and making Stiles cry out. Derek started to caress Stiles’ scalp with the hand still in his hair.

Stiles grabbed Derek’s arms, trying to pull Derek on top of him. His muscles strained, but it was like nothing against Derek’s wolfish strength. Instead, taking a fistful of his hair, Derek pulled Stiles’ head back and overpowering him instead. He kissed Stiles' lips. And he continued to kiss him, over and over, until their tongues were sliding together and Stiles was making breathy, needy noises. Okay, so maybe he was a little needy sometimes.

When Derek pulled away and opened his eyes, their usual hazel hue was tinged with red. Stiles hoped beyond hope he wasn’t about to pull away again, because Stiles’ cock was hard and leaking now.

Stiles laid back on the pillow, opening up his body to Derek and giving him a clear view of his bare chest. He kicked the sheet so it slid down, down, past his belly button, past his hipbones. Derek’s eyes followed it, and the sheet finally fell past his cock, and then Derek’s eyes flared. Stiles laid there with one leg bent at the knee and his cock resting on his abdomen, hard and pink, the tip glistening with wetness against the light hairs on his belly.

Derek was breathing hard. His clenched his fists so hard, his knuckles paled, and Stiles knew he was trying to resist.

“Tell me what it would be like if you claimed me.”

Derek let out a ferocious noise that actually made Stiles’ retreat further into the pillows in fear. Derek rolled back on top of him, grabbing Stiles’ possessively by the waist. “Why do you insist on doing this?” His voice was gritty like his wolf’s.

“I want to give this to you.”

“Fuck, Stiles.”

“Fine, don’t bite me. Just tell me.” Stiles ground his hips up into Derek’s. “Tell me how it would be.”

“You really want to know that bad?”

“Yes.”

“You want to know what it will be like being my omega?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Okay then.” Derek dipped his head to Stiles’ jaw, licking a line up to his ear and making Stiles’ shudder. “Every full moon, you’ll go into heat.” Stiles swallowed, his breath growing shallow. “You’ll be so consumed with lust, you won’t be able to think about anything else. All you’ll think about is getting fucked.”

The idea was already so hot, Stiles’ cock ached.

“Other Alphas will smell your heat because you’ll give off this delicious scent that will be nearly irresistible. And you will be so crazy with lust, you’ll bend over and spread your legs, exposing your asshole to anyone who want to come along and have you.”

Stiles whimpered. Derek took his thighs in hand and spread his legs, lifting them up. He used his body to keep Stiles’ legs pinned up against his shoulders and chest, and he squeezed Stiles’ balls in one hand. Stiles was unable to keep his eyes open, and his jaw was slack as his breath came raggedly.

“Your ass,” Derek continued, tracing a finger past Stiles’ balls and to the dip of his asshole, “will get so naturally slick as your body readies you to be fucked.” He traced Stiles’ hole, which clenched over and over under his touch, almost like it begged to take Derek's finger in. Like Stiles was already a wanton omega. “But you’ll be _my_ omega, and I’ll own you, and I won’t let anyone else have you. And I’ll just put you face down in the dirt so that all the other Alphas can get a nice, full view. And you’ll tell me loud and clear, over and over again, that you’re _my_ bitch.”

He pushed his finger into Stiles’ ass, and Stiles couldn’t stop moving his hips, his leaking cock hitting nothing but air. He didn’t dare touch it without his Alpha’s permission.

“And then I’ll fuck you, and you’ll love it.” He put his mouth to Stiles’ ear as he fucked his finger in and out of his ass. “And I won't just fuck you, I’ll fucking breed you, that’s how hard you’ll get it. Yeah --” He pulled his finger out and Stiles felt it pushing against his lips. He opened his eyes to see Derek looking down at him with fully red eyes, his face contorted in arousal.

He opened his mouth to let Derek push two fingers in.

“Get those nice and wet, bitch.”

Stiles moaned around his fingers, salivating all over them and being a good boy as Derek fucked his mouth with them. Then they were gone and back at his asshole, where Derek pushed both fingers in roughly. Stiles didn’t care that it hurt, because even the pain felt amazing.

“Anytime I want you,” Derek continued. “Anytime I want your ass, it will be available for me.”

“Yes,” Stiles hissed. “Oh, fuck. Yes. Anytime.”

“You going to bend over for your Alpha anytime he wants it?”

“Fuck yeah, Derek. You’re my Alpha. I’ll give you my ass anytime.”

“I want it now,” Derek growled.

“Take it!”

Derek removed his fingers and this time, his thick cockhead pushed against Stiles’ hole, and Stiles pushed back just as hard. Derek breached him and slid his cock in a bit, then pulled out, then slid in another inch. His forehead glistened with sweat. Finally, Stiles took the entire length of Derek’s cock, and he felt so stretched and full, and he wanted to always be filled with Derek.

Then Derek began to fuck him, and Stiles stopped thinking.

“Derek, fuck, please, Derek,” he mumbled, sometimes incoherently. Variations of please, and fuck me harder, and _Derek_.

Derek grunted and growled, his face buried in Stiles’ neck. At some point, Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders and stroked his back lovingly, and he felt Derek fall apart in his arms. Derek shuddered and made a strangled noise deep in his throat, and Stiles felt his balls draw up just then. The muscles in his ass spasmed as he came, and Derek came also, wrapped in Stiles’ arms.

When it was over, Stiles realized Derek was hugging him. Had been for a while.

“I want it, Derek,” Stiles mumbled, so exhausted that he was hardly able to form words. “I want to give you this.” That was the last thing he remembered saying before drifting off to sleep with the warm sun on him, and Derek clinging to him.

 

 

* * *

The weight on top of him had mysteriously disappeared by the time he woke up, no idea how many hours later. The sun wasn't nearly as bright, and the sheets next to him were wrinkled. And severely lacking a certain werewolf.

Of course, Stiles told himself as he put his head back on his pillow and sighed. He left. Why had he expected Derek to do anything other than that? This is what Derek did: he came over, he fucked Stiles, claiming intense passionate need or some other bullshit, and then he left.

Maybe all that shit he’d said about Stiles being ‘ _his_ omega’ was not true. Stiles’ throat tightened, but he ignored it and told himself to grow up. Most likely, Derek had just said all that crap because it got his dick hard and it got Stiles to fuck him. He didn't really mean it.

The stupid thing about that was that Stiles would have fucked him anyway.

Stiles let out a long, satisfying roar of frustration. And then he breathed, and he lay there, and he decided that was the last time he was going to fuck Derek Hale.

As he trotted down the stairs in ratty jeans and one of his most comfortable long-sleeved thermal shirts, he heard a thumping sound from the living room. His dad wasn’t supposed to be back for days. Did he finish the stake out already? Stiles slowed down and, when he got to the bottom of the staircase, looked around the corner.

“No way.”

Derek turned around to look at him. “Hey,” he said simply, then went back to doing what he was doing. Which was wrestling with a huge ass pine tree.

Stiles skidded over the hardwood in his haste to get over there. “Are you… Is this… That’s a big fucking tree.”

“Yup.”

It was then that Stiles noticed the floor, which was covered in dirt and grime and snow trecked in by the bottom branches of the tree and by Derek’s filthy, muddy boots.

“Dude,” Stiles started, pushing his hands through his hair, “my dad is going to kill me when he sees that.”

“That’s why they have these things called mops.”

“Did you get that from the fucking _woods_?”

The tree no longer teetered, and Derek slowly let go of it, assessing that it wasn’t going to fall over. When it stayed upright -- mainly by leaning against Stiles’ fireplace, which he would most definitely not be lighting now -- Derek finally turned around to face Stiles. His jacket was wet and his jeans were stained with streaks of mud. Even his hair was mussed, with a bit of pine needle stuck in the front.

“Yeah,” Derek said.

Stiles nodded, crossing his arms and staring from Derek to the tree. “You cut this down with you bare hands?”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “You said you needed a tree.” He gestured back toward it. “There’s a tree.”

Stiles bit his lip, for once stumped for words. Derek had gone outside, trekked into the woods (which in all honesty was like a second home to him, but still), and cut him down a tree. Because Stiles wanted one.

Derek shrugged. “It’s not a big de--” he started to say, but Stiles lunged at him, almost knocking him back into the tree itself. He was nowhere as strong as Derek, but the force with which he threw himself into Derek’s arms made Derek take a step back to steady himself.

Stiles began to kiss Derek’s jaw a hundred times, or as many times as he could, mostly to be cute and annoying but also because all his earlier doubts melted away so quickly, he felt jittery.

It took half a second for Derek to lift him up turned Stiles toward the wall. Stiles was caught off guard as he found himself pressed up against it, with Derek’s face once again buried in his neck. Derek inhaled, and then let the air rush out of his lungs slowly.

He knew Derek was breathing in his scent.

Stiles’ heart hammered in his chest.

 

 

* * *

Lydia and Allison were the last to arrive, and Stiles pulled Lydia aside.

“Do me a favor?”

She pursed her lips. “That depends on what it is.”

“Nothing much, just, uhm, make sure Allison doesn’t bring up her family at any point during the conversation.” Stiles added in a lower voice, “Her father, her aunt, her uncle... you know those people.” When Lydia only gave him a puzzled look, he specified. “Around Derek.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I was meaning to ask you,” she said, looking over his shoulder in Derek’s direction. “Why is he here?”

Lydia’s no-nonsense face could intimidate most people, but Stiles had known her too long. He theorized the intimidation factor of the bitch-face was related in proportion to the amount of time one was friends with her.

“He’s Scott’s friend,” Stiles said. “He goes everywhere Scott goes, I don’t know.”

She looked at him like she knew something, with a little smirk on her lips. "Is that all?"

"Of course, what else would there be?" He knew Derek would kill him if he even hinted anything was going on, so Stiles kept as straight a face as he possibly could. 

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said, and began to push away from him.

Stiles stopped her with a light grip on her arm. “Just… Allison?”

“Okay, okay,” Lydia said. “I’ll babysit her and make sure the big bad wolf doesn’t eat her. Now please tell me you have some sort of spiked… anything here.”

“I have hot chocolate,” Stiles said. “Hot chocolate powder, in those little bags.”

“I said spiked.”

“And I also have rum.”

“Perfect.”

In truth, Stiles adored Lydia. He could probably say that next to Scott, she was his biggest confidante. Also, he liked her because she could make fantastic drinks, and he decided that was a valuable skill in a friend. An hour later, Stiles was buzzed off spiked hot cocoa and singing about Rudolph.

“No more hot chocolate for you,” Boyd said, shaking his head. Erica nodded in agreement from where she was perched in his lap. Torn up gift wrap from one of the presents laid at his feet, and he kicked it aside. They had exchanged gifts right away, and Erica wore hers: a silver necklace from Boyd and big knit hat from Isaac.

Everyone else got similar knitted gear for one another, and Stiles wore a scarf Lydia had given him.

“ _And if you ever saw him_...”

Scott threw a pillow that hit Stiles’ face, and Stiles fell backward. Scott couldn’t have had worse aim, because Stiles fell right on top of Derek, who had been sitting in a solitary armchair all night, speaking to no one. Scott’s eyes were tearing up, he was laughing so hard.

Derek’s hands steadied Stiles’ hips, and Stiles made sure to plant his ass firmly in Derek’s lap.

“Oh no, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” he said, subtly grinding back into Derek in what he hoped appeared to everyone else like a drunken wriggle.

“Be careful Stiles,” Scott said, “you don’t want to piss off a werewolf.”

“I’m not scared of werewolves,” Stiles said.

Everyone _Ooo’ed_ dramatically.

“Derek, you didn’t get me a present,” Isaac said. “Asshole,” he added with a grin.

“Derek doesn’t get presents,” Erica teased.

Then a chorus of _Booo’s_ sounded up, only subsisting when Stiles held up his hands.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles called out. “Everyone, it’s okay,” he said in his most serious, diplomatic-sounding voice. “We’ve already established that Derek’s a sour wolf.” He grinned as that caused another round of overly-loud drunken laughter.

“I have a gift,” Derek said.

Literally, everyone shut up.

Scott raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?”

“I knew you got me something!” Isaac chirped.

“It’s not for you dickheads,” Derek said. He pulled Stiles back until he fell against Derek’s chest, his head resting next to Derek’s on the back of the armchair.

Stiles felt his blood spike, because what was Derek doing? All their friends were staring at them oddly. Allison had this weird look on her face like she was trying really hard not to burst into gleeful laughter and clapping. Isaac looked confused. Scott was smiling calmly… which was unnerving.

“The gift’s for Stiles,” Derek said.

Stiles wondered if having too much spiked hot cocoa made it harder for one to breathe.

“It’s more of an announcement,” Derek continued. “Stiles and I… We’re together.”

The air was now totally, one hundred percent gone. There was no air in the room. And Stiles’ face was heating up so much, he probably looked like Rudolph at this point.

Allison yelped, and then Lydia squeaked and grinned, and then everyone was grinning. Boyd even clapped slow and steady, like _finally, you assholes got here, and we almost got old waiting for you to catch the fuck up_.

Stiles turned his head. “Derek?”

Derek smiled at him. “Merry Christmas, Stiles.”

“Are you serious?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I just did it, didn’t I?”

Stiles grinned so hard it hurt.

“When did this happen?” Isaac asked, appearing genuinely stunned. Scott threw a pillow in his face as the girls boo’d at him.

 

* * *

 

“They knew all along,” Stiles said. “Scott knew all along and he never said anything!”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

Stiles climbed back into Derek’s lap. He was sitting on the couch now, and Stiles faced him and put his hands around Derek’s neck. His heart fluttered every time he realized he was allowed to do this. He was the only one allowed to touch Derek like this. A spike of possessiveness that could rival any Alpha’s rose up in his chest.

“That I should never have doubted your friends?” Derek said.

“They’re your friends, too.”

“You’re kind of cute when you think the world’s full of nice people.”

“You’re kind of cute when I’m drunk.”

Derek grinned, and this time couldn’t hide a small chuckle that snuck out.

“All the nice people are gone,” Stiles said. “Whatever shall we do?” He leaned down and kissed Derek.

“You seem to be onto something.”

“I still haven’t give you a gift,” Stiles said as he dipped back in for another kiss. “You know what I want to give you.”

“Still?”

Stiles sat back and looked at Derek. Was this argument ever going to end? What did he have to do to prove to Derek that he was serious?

“Can you stop sacrificing what you want to supposedly protect the people you care about?” Stiles asked. “You always do that and it always just makes you miserable. You don’t have to be miserable. You don’t have to be alone all the time.” Stiles rubbed his thumb into the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck. “I’ll be with you.”

“You’re crazy Stiles,” Derek said softly.

“Yeah, I’m crazy about you, you big jerk.”

Derek caught his mouth in another kiss.

“I’m ready to do whatever you want,” Stiles said, rolling his hips against Derek’s groin. “Alpha.”

“Jesus christ. All right. Get off me and strip.”

Stiles scrambled off, ripping his clothes off as he stood in front of Derek, who spread his legs and rubbed the outline of his cock through his jeans. The cool air licked at Stiles' skin and only punctuated his nakedness in the fact of Derek being fully-clothed.

“Now,” Derek said. “Turn around and get on the floor with that ass up.”

Stiles practically fell to the ground -- his limbs were losing their strength anyways. “Like this?” he asked, when he had assumed the position.

He heard Derek’s zipper, then felt Derek’s jean-clad legs against his bare ass and thighs. “Yeah, just like that. Damn, that ass looks so good.” He gripped both cheeks firmly in his hands, exhaling evenly. “Stiles, do you really -- and I mean absolutely -- want to be my omega?”

“Derek,” he said, looking back, “I _am_ your omega.”

Derek’s eyes didn’t flash red. This time, a grin broke across his face, bright and filled with a happiness Stiles never saw on Derek’s usually brooding face. He took hold of Stiles’ waist and flipped him around so that Stiles was on his back.

“It’s going to hurt.”

Stiles shut his eyes. He couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t actually happening. He had imagined it a million times, but this was not actually, really happening. He was sure this was a dream and he’d wake up with a hangover and Derek would be gone again.

Until he felt Derek’s stubble on his neck.

“Baby,” Derek whispered so low, Stiles might have imagined it.

Derek kissed him on a spot on his neck. And then.

**Author's Note:**

> Contact me on tumblr: [@heyitsamorette](https://heyitsamorette.tumblr.com/)


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